Lonely Day
by Ann Parker
Summary: [OneShot] Post Ashes to Dust. ReidEverybody knows that something's wrong, but nobody knows what's going on. He's trying to tell the team that he needs help, but doesn't think anyone notices, or cares. And that can make someone not want to fight anymore


Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. It is the property of Mark R. Gordon and CBS. I also don't own the song "Lonely Day," which is by Phantom Planet.

Author's Note: This just came to me one day when the song started playing on my laptop. To those reading Perfection, don't worry, that's not forgotten. I was actually just waiting to post chapter 7 to see if anyone had any comments on 6 first.

I didn't label this a songfic because although that's where the inspiration came from, I didn't really incorporate it into the story like I do with others. It is only at the top so you can get a feel for what kind of mood Reid is supposed to be in. This is supposed to take place after "Ashes to Dust." I was inspired from his drug addict comment and something MGG said in an interview on a completely different subject, I wanted to know if anyone out there would be interested in reading a Criminal Minds crossover. I was thinking about this, but wanted to see if there was any interest first. I was thinking either Numb3rs or Bones. Anyone have a preference?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Lonely Day**

By Ann Parker

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I could tell from the minute I woke up

It was going to be a lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely day.

Rise and shine, rub the sleep out of my eyes

And try to tell myself I can't go back to bed

It's gonna be a lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely day.

Even though the sun is shining down on me

And I should feel about as happy as can be

I just got here and I already want to leave

It's gonna be a lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely day.

Everybody knows that something's wrong

But nobody knows what's going on

We all sing the same old song

When you want it all to go away

It's shaping up to be a lonely day.

I could tell from the minute I woke up

It was going to be a lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely day.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reid rolled over in bed and glared at his alarm clock. Another day, another shot, and maybe another cry for help. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to rub the pain and sleep deprivation away. He had yet to get one night of peaceful sleep since Tobias, since he gave in to the temptation and used the drugs he swiped from his dead body.

He quickly showered and got dressed even though he had no real desire to go to work. He was mad, hurt by his team. He couldn't force himself to come out right and say "Hey look at me! I'm a drug addict!" but he thought he had left enough hints for these "expert" profilers to figure it out. Did they think he chose the metaphor about arsonists and drug addicts for no particular reason? Or maybe they had and just didn't care. That thought hurt him more than just believing they couldn't profile a member of their own team. What if they didn't care if he continued down this slippery slope? Was he actually going to have to fix this all on his own? He didn't know if he had enough will power to do that. He needed someone, anyone, to help him.

Grabbing his messenger bag, he paused by the desk near his front door and stared at the top left drawer. Slowly he opened it and pulled out the two vials and needle. One was already empty, the other almost empty too. Yet he had to carry both with him, they were his security blanket. He tucked them safely away in the pocket of his brown sweater. He knew that soon he was going to have to buy some of his own. He had hoped that he wouldn't have gotten this far in the first place when he took them. They were just supposed to be a temporary solution to his pain, fear, guilt. Now all those emotions seemed to be consumed by the drugs themselves and he couldn't fight it. He momentarily debated on whether or not he needed a quick fix before going in, but decided against it. It had only been two hours since his last shot, that should last him for a while. He hoped it would anyway. The pull was getting stronger.

He glared at the sun shining so brightly as he got in his car and drove to the BAU. As he parked in front of the federal building, he sighed. He used to like what he did, even though it had never been what he had planned for himself. Now all he really wanted to do was throw the car in reverse and go back home and drown in his sorrows. He climbed out of the car and headed into the office. He quickly noticed Morgan and Emily chatting and laughing. This was going to be fun. They still hadn't forgiven him for his behavior in New Orleans. He couldn't exactly blame them, even though he did. They just didn't get what he was trying to say. He did feel bad for snapping at Emily though. She seemed like the only one that was trying to call him on his behavior. Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell her, but instead lashed out at her. She was too new; she didn't know him enough. He wanted someone else on the team to be the one to help him; no, he needed it to be someone else on the team. They were supposed to be his friends, his family, right? Why hadn't they said anything like she did? Gideon sort of had, but all that did was make him try to hide it better.

He tried to put on a somewhat happy face as he walked over to them and to his desk. "Morning," he mumbled and they at least nodded in return. He set down bag with a resounding thud and sat down, turning on his computer. JJ walked by and smiled at him and he attempted to smile in return. Rubbing his eyes, he stared down at the file he needed to work on, but he couldn't concentrate. The dose from earlier wasn't large enough, he felt the urge for another fix already. Damn it, why hadn't he taken care of this before coming in? He had some how managed to not use it at the office yet, except during lunch when he would leave for a while so they couldn't find him. This pull was beginning to consume him and it frightened him. He knew this drug could awaken the schizophrenia if he was going to develop it later. That was the last thing he needed right now. He couldn't seem to trust the people he thought were his friends to help him with this, there would be no way they could handle that. He couldn't handle that, especially since he could hardly even trust himself, a very dangerous path to be traveling. If he did become schizophrenic, it wouldn't take much for him to snap. Just no one to trust and to let his nightmares consume him. Then they would probably have to chase him…

He shot out of his chair, scared out of his mind at that thought. Where had that come from? No, he wouldn't, couldn't, let that happen. He needed to get this under control. But the pull was just so strong.

"Yo, Reid, you okay?" asked Morgan. He suddenly realized that he was just standing in the middle of the bullpen staring off into space. He had been so good at hiding this until now. He glanced at the older man, noticing concern in his eyes. Maybe they do notice. He grabbed his arm, the pull starting to take over his body. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't. Instead he just ran off into the bathroom.

He leaned on one of the sinks, staring at himself. He hardly recognized himself anymore. Turning on the water, he splashed some cold water in his face, desperate to try anything to fight the urge to shoot up. He let out a shaky breath as the water dripped off. He couldn't fight it. He grabbed a paper towel and dried off his face. His hands, a mind of their own, went into his pocket and pulled out the vials and needle. He just wasn't strong enough to fight this, not on his own. He pulled up his sleeve, not needing to tie off his arm anymore to find a vein. He filled the needle and injected the drug, his one friend, into his system. As he pulled out the needle, letting his sleeve slide back down his arm, he leaned against the wall, bracing himself for what was to come. The darkness.

"Reid, what's wrong?" asked Morgan, bursting through the door just at that moment. Gideon was behind him. He looked up at them and a sad smile graced his face. They finally figured it out. He began to slide down the wall, closing his eyes. He let the vials and needle fall out of his hand. The soft melody of the glass clanging against the tile floor was like music to his ears.

"Reid, its okay. We're going to get you help," Gideon's caring voice washed over him as he was about to slip into unconsciousness. They really did care. He wasn't alone. He could fight this now.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**The End**


End file.
